


Confessions

by ThatWasntSoBad



Series: Cullen/Elswyth Trevelyan [1]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Templar Inquisitor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-05
Updated: 2020-02-05
Packaged: 2021-02-19 08:56:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22575172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThatWasntSoBad/pseuds/ThatWasntSoBad
Summary: Elswyth Trevelyan has been a Templar for nine years and somehow managed to befriend Knight-Captain Cullen before the Rebellion. She discovered that she had feelings for him. Will he feel the same despite staying away from Lyrium?
Relationships: Cullen Rutherford/Female Trevelyan, Female Inquisitor/Cullen Rutherford
Series: Cullen/Elswyth Trevelyan [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1624309
Kudos: 9





	Confessions

With a sigh, the Commander of the Inquisition ran a hand down his face as he closed his office door. It had barely been a fortnight since Haven fell and already Elswyth was back to work, Crestwood was her first port to call, trying to figure out _what_ was going on with the Wardens.

She returned an hour ago and he was given the last of the reports - a missing mayor, a dragon, and a tragic story. A lot had happened - everyone was still processing the events when they got back to work. She checked up on everyone before she left, intent on trying her best to help everyone get back on their feet.

When she spoke to him last, it reminded him of her return to Kirkwall - she was exhausted when she got off the boat, but still, she worked, and still, she took the time to make sure he was okay. Only, this time, she had taken his hand, uncaring about the bustle of the day.

She had only taken his hand once before: when he was leaving Kirkwall.

_"Cullen, wait."_

_He spun on his heel, surprised to hear her call out to him so soon after they bid each other farewell, and then she reached out and took his hand. Tight. Like she was afraid without knowing._

_She looked at him, tired and restless, eyes flickering like she didn't know where to look, before fully looking into his eyes. The low sun illuminated her irises - bright blue with flecks of green. He always enjoyed how her eyes shone in the light, yet he didn't quite realise how much until_ _then. They calmed him, helped him sleep when the nightmares were bad. She knew of them from a time they were hunting down a Maleficar together. Her eyes were usually what he would see when he awoke._

_Elswyth was quiet, but her eyes said it all. She opened her mouth to talk yet no words came. Cullen knew the words she wanted to say and yet she said them after a moment: "I'll miss you, you know."_   
  


_He didn't know if it was the words or how casually she spoke them that hurt the most - especially since it was clear to him it hurt to say them. He'd miss her greatly, even knowing she'd be at the Conclave with the Ostwick mages and Templars, neutral to the rebellion._   
_"I'll be fine."_   
  


_"You always are." And then she squeezed his hand before letting go. "Depending on how the conclave goes, if you're recruiting... I'll happily join the cause."_

_He arched a brow. "You will?"_

_"Someone's got to make sure you're taking care of yourself."_

_She was so close to him and he missed the warmth of her palm. He wanted to take her hand, comfort her as best he could, hold her if she would allow it. He wanted to kiss her then, so desperate to tell her how he felt his words failed him._

_He vowed he wouldn't love - yet another defensive wall._

_Yet the warmth of her lips against his cheek was unforgettable._ _It tormented him._

_It always haunted him._

"Cullen," He straightened from where he stood behind his desk and looked up with brief confusion as the door opened and closed. Elswyth - _Lady Trevelyan,_ he corrected himself - had walked in, shivering from the cold. Since the events at Haven, she had fallen victim to shivering more regularly. From his time knowing her, Culled knew she wasn't too fond of freezing temperatures - a sensitivity caused by a few Maleficarum that used nothing but ice spells. She had been chasing them for a year and it was what made her a Knight-Captain. Since she returned to them after Haven, she was more vulnerable. She constantly said she'd be alright after a while once she had gotten used to the temperatures. So far she was right.

Elswyth donned a formal attire - the coat light brown, sash a green velvet that appeared dark brown in some lighting. Leather gloves of beige, boots and brais brown. "We need to talk. Alone."

"Alone?" He was caught off guard and he blinked in mild confusion for a moment before her troubled expression was truly noticed. "I-I mean, of course!"

It was hard to be alone in Skyhold - everyone was running around, making repairs to dilapidating walls, ceilings, examining their surroundings. It was near impossible. Private conversations could be interrupted without notice. The best they could get was a stretch of the battlements. With the sun starting to set, it was difficult not to look at Elswyth. Once again the blue in her eyes was brighter, the green within them a haze in the ocean.

The silence, however, had grown uncomfortable. Sweat had begun to form on his back, throat dry from nerves. He decided to break it - small talk that often induced pleasant conversation with her.

"It's a nice day." He cringed at how _obvious_ his nervousness was. It was a good day, all things considered. It wasn't as cold, there was barely any wind, and he... he was stood beside her.

"What?" He caught the confusion within her eyes and his ears turned red.

Apparently, pleasantries weren't going to smooth the conversation.

"It's..." He sighed. She had heard his statement and there was no point in discussing it. "There was something you wished to discuss."

He watched her, eyes focusing on the way she leaned against the battlements, one hand seeming to cling to the wall whilst the other grasped her bicep. She was nervous, something she was trying to hide. He saw it within her eyes when her gaze met his, swimming amidst resolution.

"I find myself thinking of you. Probably more often than I should openly admit. Truth be told, I... when..." She cleared her throat, ears turning a light shade of pink. He found it endearing, how she flustered at a single thought when she wasn't working. "My head feels like it's about to explode when I'm next to you, my chest hurts when I'm away from you, and I..." She sighed, turning her face away, eyes downcast and distant.

Cullen took half a step towards her. He was worried. She seemed to stare at the view with despair - as if a thought she had managed to keep away had returned with a vengeance. He had only seen her appear so crestfallen a handful of times over the years - this would be the third he had seen since the Conclave, the second since Haven. He could count on one hand the number of times he had seen her look so defeated, and three of the five were during this chaos.

She was worn down, posture once filled with natural poise and confidence now revealing how much she was struggling to keep her back straight to disguise faltering confidence.  
It pained him to see her struggling alone. Every time he saw her looking so... _broken_ he felt it in his chest, heart aching and clenching tightly.

She was always there for him in his moments of darkness - it was time for him to help her in any way he could.

"What is it? What's wrong?"

She took a breath, closed her eyes, and then looked back out across the mountain range.   
"It's probably nothing, just my insecurities being a pain in my arse, but I can't help but wonder if... if I'm reaching out too much. Wanting something so hard I fool myself into thinking it's possible." She sighed again, eyes narrowing in focus for a mere moment. Blinked and he would have missed it. "I care about you. A great deal. I know how important _not_ using lyrium is to you, and I wish I could stop but every time I tried..." Her words died in her throat but he knew what she was going to say.

Stopping lyrium consumption was dangerous. Some were lucky, but she's always suffered the worst. Each time she's tried, she nearly died.

She managed to look at him again, and he almost wished she hadn't with the pain that seemed to flicker in her irises. "I love you, Cullen. As more than a friend. But could you ever -?"

"I could - I mean, I do. Think about you." She, too, had plagued his thoughts. Ever since she arrived at Kirkwall with her entourage of templars after the rebellion kicked off. Ever since he left. "And what I might say in this situation."

Her being a templar didn't phase him - he had decided to stop taking lyrium but she wasn't so lucky. She felt the Maker had deemed her unworthy. They'd discussed this all before in Kirkwall - should one of them or both decide to stop taking lyrium, they would support each other as much as they possibly could.

He didn't care she was still taking it - not after she had decided to stop without telling anyone, leading to her collapsing during a council meeting. He interrogated her for the truth when she woke a few hours later, to which she revealed it after a few well placed glares and questions. She was angered that she had failed once more. She was more determined to stop once her Uncle back in Ostwick had started to suffer memory loss from the lyrium. It frightened her and he did what he could to bring her comfort.

"What's stopping you?"Her expression had changed to something a little more surprised - forlorn replaced by curiosity. His nerves were forgotten about and he couldn't help but answer.

He looked away for a moment. "You're the Inquisitor, we're at war and you..." He looked at her once again, his voice caught in his throat. She was smiling, face so tender and gentle. His heart pounded against his chest. "I didn't think it was possible."

Elswyth's hand was gentle upon his. "And yet I'm still here."

"So you are." Cullen couldn't help it. Not really. For years he wanted... he had loved her. Unconditionally. He was happy enough to let it be a feeling, never to enact upon it. But now, she was right there, allowing him to love her. She loved him. He stood in front of her, resting his hands on her waist. They were so close, noses very nearly touching. He could feel the gentleness of her breath. "It seems too much to ask... but I want to..." Cullen's voice quieted, heart seemingly unstoppable in its rhythm.

Despite the gloves she wore, he felt the tenderness in her touch - the way she cupped his neck, thumbs fitting against the curve of his jaw and fingers moulding effortlessly to the back of his head with her index and middle fingers within his hair. There was very little pressure - if there was any at all - and it made it clear to him that they both wanted the same thing. Their faces drew closer, tilting to not bump into each other's noses, and -

"Commander."

Her hands fell and Cullen straightened his posture in annoyance. His hands lingered at her hips for a moment before they fell.

He tried to contain his annoyance.

"I have Sister Leliana's report."

Not that containing it helped matters. He turned to the recruit, stepping away from Elswyth. He scowled. "What?" And annoyance laced his tone like poison around the rim of a chalice.

"Sister Leliana's report? You wanted it delivered 'without delay'."

Of course, the recruits reply didn't do him any favours. Neither did the stifled laughter from Elswyth. Cullen could only continue to scowl, silence filling the atmosphere thickly. The recruits eyes flickered from him to the Inquisitor, to him again. It seemed that, finally, a light shone in realisation and he backed away.

"Or to your office. Right." He hurried through the door to the tower, scurrying away as if he was both terrified and mortified.

Cullen turned on his heel, taking a breath, and began to approach Elswyth. His heart hammered in his chest, his strides long and purposeful.

The report could wait.

"Cullen, if you need to -"

He kissed her, her words dying before she could finish the sentence. His palms cupped her cheeks, his body pinning her against the side battlements.   
Elswyth tensed for a moment before she relaxed, hands stilling on his chest.

Cullen pulled away enough to breathe, face warm and ears burning with the realisation of what he had done. "I'm sorry! That was... really nice. "   
Maker's breath, she would be the death of him. The Commander of the army whittled down to a shy man. He must have looked sheepish - he _felt_ sheepish. He lowered his hands but never strayed away from her form, returning them to her waist.

Her smile set his heart aflame, pulse easily felt within his neck, and her cheeks were a... beautiful shade of rouge.   
"There's no need to apologise, Cullen." His name fell from her lips in the most beautiful way, arms draping over his shoulders. Her voice lowered and she spoke quietly, barely above a whisper, as if it was late at night and they were having a hushed conversation. "It was perfect."

"Oh?" He couldn't help the smile that spread onto his features, inching closer to her again. "Good."

And then he kissed her again, softer and more gentle this time. He caught the faint flavour of sugar and he couldn't help but smile into the kiss. Sweet foods were something she couldn't stay away from and it wasn't surprising at all that it lingered upon her lips. Yet his suspicion of such being the case being _correct_ made him happy nonetheless.

Elswyth was the one to pull away this time. She was grinning. "I didn't think this would happen, truth be told."

"You didn't?"

She shook her head. "You had sworn yourself away from love, I attempted to... not love you but that failed even before you told me. I half expected rejection. Instead, I..." She laughed in disbelief. "I'm sorry, I just... am I dreaming right now?"

Cullen couldn't help but laugh at her question. He had asked himself the same question in silence. It was real - everything about it. The fade couldn't create such scenery or sensations. And yet part of him was still stunned, even as he rested his forehead against hers. "I'm asking myself the same thing."


End file.
